


Zombie

by flightlesscrow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Like wars and stuff, M/M, Nightmares, The depictions of violence are in makki's dreams, i guess?, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6549013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlesscrow/pseuds/flightlesscrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Zombie by The Cranberries. Hanamaki gets really bad nightmares. Matsukawa comforts him after one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombie

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from Zombie are in the fic

Hanamaki gets recurring nightmares. They started when he was five years old, after hearing news of wars and bombings from the reporter on the television program his mom was watching. He's seventeen now, but he still gets the nightmares. They just won't go away.

His older sister is the only one who knows about them, but she's moved out to go to a university in Tokyo. She had been the one to calm him down from them before, but he's learned to manage by himself these past few years.

While normally he'd pride himself on that, his independence seemed to make the dreams worse. 

When they started, it was general war things that he'd seen on the television screen. Guns, bombs, children screaming, the likes. He'd woken up crying and had immediately gone to his sister after that. She nor he could interpret the dreams or why they kept coming and only worsened after that, but she soothed his worries when he woke up from a nightmare. That was all he'd needed; someone there to let him know he's not alone. 

As he made friends with other kids, the nightmares got worse. He began to get frustrated with himself for that. _ Why wouldn't they go away? Aren't friends supposed to make you feel less alone?  _ Yet despite his constant fretting over the unknown, he could never formulate a solution. Thoughts about the nightmares plagued his conscious thoughts, too. 

It was when his grades took a nosedive that he pushed thoughts of nightmares aside for nighttime. 

His mother had called him into the kitchen to discuss his report card.

“Takahiro, what's this? Your grades look like they're war-stricken!” His mother exclaimed.  _ If only you knew, _ Hanamaki thought, but said nothing other than a  promise to work hard to bring his grades up to par again.

And he did just that. By the end of his middle school career, Hanamaki had some of the top marks in his class. He aced his entrance exams for Aoba Jousai as well. 

It was there that he'd met the person who'd grown to mean the most to him. 

He was in year 1 class 3 with Matsukawa Issei. At first, the two bickered constantly, neither of them being able to tolerate the other. Soon, though, the two got over themselves and became closer than even life-long best friends. 

They did nearly everything together; their mothers teased that the duo were “joined at the hip.” Hanamaki realized that they were right when the two women said that, but he and Matsukawa just snickered and ran off to play some video games in Hanamaki’s room. 

While he was having such an amazing time with his friend during the day, the nights were very hard. Hanamaki’s nightmares got worse still; even he couldn't believe it. Nor could his sister when he phoned her to report the news.  

In his dreams, masked people would take Matsukawa away and torture him, or worse, just shoot him in front of Hanamaki. Sometimes, bombs were dropped over the areas that he and Matsukawa shared and frequented. Other times, the two of them were forced on opposing sides of the war, forced to be enemies instead of the best friends that they were in real life. Those dreams ended in either Matsukawa or Hanamaki dying by the bullet of the other’s gun. They were, Hanamaki thought, the worst of the dreams he had. The lists were endless, though, and Hanamaki always woke up with Matsukawa’s name trying to claw its way out of his throat. 

He was reminded of an English song that has the lyrics,  _ “It's the same old theme, since 1916. In your head, in your head they're still fighting. With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns. In your head, in your head they are dying.” _ It’s ironic, Hanamaki pondered, how there’s a song that sort of matched his situation, albeit the lyrics might have meant something different. He also found it a strange coincidence that the chorus repeats the word “zombie” over and over again, because he felt like one when he woke up in the mornings and even throughout the entire day when the nightmares got especially bad.

He was terrified, but being around Matsukawa always made him feel safer, so Hanamaki didn't try to push Matsukawa away like he'd done with so many before him. 

In the middle of their second year at Aoba Jousai, Hanamaki confessed to Matsukawa on their walk home that Matsukawa was the longest friend Hanamaki ever had. Matsukawa didn’t quite understand at the time, but the solemn expression on Hanamaki’s usually grinning face prevented the taller boy from questioning anything. So he simply shrugged and bumped shoulders with Hanamaki, and soon the two were poking fun at each other and laughing again as usual. 

If the two couldn’t read each other perfectly at the end of their second year in high school, then by the start of their third year, they were experts on each other. Hanamaki learned to read the way Matsukawa talks with his hands to express emotions rather than his voice. When Matsukawa rubbed his left arm with his right hand, he was nervous. When he tapped on Hanamaki’s arm or shoulder twice, he was excited or happy. When he reached up to twist the curls in his hair, he was thinking about something. When he drummed his fingers on his thighs, he was angry. When he tapped Hanamaki’s wrist once, he was upset or worried about something. When he linked his own fingers together in front of himself, he was content and happy. They were little things Hanamaki had picked up over their two years of friendship that he could tell none of Matsukawa’s other friends had.

Consequently, Matsukawa learned to read Hanamaki’s feelings as well. Whenever Hanamaki was happy, he’d doodle something on a piece of paper he found lying around with one of his many pencils he carried with him everywhere. When he was upset, he’d sit with his legs drawn up to his chest while he rested his chin on his knees. Matsukawa also learned that his friend just needed him to talk during this time, and soon Hanamaki would feel okay again. He observed that Hanamaki got quieter in his speech when he was angry. On the other hand, when he was happy, he’d get louder. When Hanamaki was nervous, he’d tap his foot in time to a marching band drum beat. Similarly to Hanamaki’s discovery about his knowledge that no one else knew about Matsukawa’s little hints, Matsukawa felt like he was the only one to be able to read Hanamaki in this way as well. 

Hanamaki has kept his nightmares a secret from Matsukawa their entire friendship. It wasn’t that he couldn’t trust Matsukawa; they’d been in so many situations where Hanamaki had to trust Matsukawa more than he would if he were to just tell him about a silly dream. The trust he has in Matsukawa is enough to rival even his trust in his sister. He was afraid to tell Matsukawa. He was afraid that if he did, Matsukawa would leave him by himself, afraid that Matsukawa would find Hanamaki weird and not in a good way. But Hanamaki couldn’t help it. He knew that not everyone was as kind and accepting as his sister. That’s why he’d gone to her for everything instead of his parents, because they were the type of people who’d find him odd and try and distance themselves from it. Not that they were bad people; they just wouldn’t understand it, is all. 

It was at a training camp that Matsukawa found out Hanamaki’s well-kept secret. They were at a training camp to get prepared for the Spring Inter-High tournament that was fast-approaching. 

The two of them have had countless sleepovers at each others houses. Hanamaki had perfected the art of being silent when he awoke from a nightmare. While Matsukawa was a light-sleeper, Hanamaki learned how to calm himself quietly enough that Matsukawa would not wake. So Hanamaki was sure he could get through the training camp nights without disturbing anyone in the room where they slept. 

He had thought he did, the first few nights they were there. The nightmares were bad but not extremely so, and he could calm himself without having to exit the room, which sometimes occurred. 

It was on the team’s fourth night there that the incident took place.  

Hanamaki had woken from a particularly graphic dream where he was forced to watch the torturing and killing of his loved ones, with Matsukawa being the last and most painful to watch. He had woken after that with a start, allowing a slight whimper to pass through his open lips. He worked hard to get his pounding heart and ragged breathing under control, using countless tactics his sister had taught him for these nights, but nothing had worked to soothe his worries. His mind was replaying what his unconsciousness had provided as a movie to watch as he slept. 

The air in the room felt stuffy and hot, too uncirculated for Hanamaki’s liking. He quietly got up from his sleeping mat and slipped out of the room, quiet as a mouse. He tip-toed down the hall to the bathroom. The opened the window and leaned against the window sill, gulping in the fresh night air and finally feeling his heart rate slow to a normal pace. 

It quickly picked up again when Hanamaki heard the door to the bathroom open. He spun around so fast he nearly lost his balance. Standing in the doorway, with a nervous smile slathered on his face, was Matsukawa. Hanamaki had never in his life been both so relieved and frightened to see his friend in his life. 

“Hey, Makki,” Matsukawa said softly, timidly, as if he were approaching a fawn in the woods rather than his best friend of two years. He slowly walked towards Hanamaki, letting the door fall shut without a sound behind him.

“Mattsun,” Was all Hanamaki could say. How had he woken up? How did he know Hanamaki was in the bathroom? Hanamaki had thought he’d been quiet enough as to not wake anyone in the room, especially Matsukawa, up. He suddenly choked on the breath he’d been trying to take. He began coughing and turned away from his friend, prepared to push him away like everyone else. 

“Makki. Makki, look at me. Please. ‘Hiro, please, I need you to do this for me.” Matsukawa was by Hanamaki’s side in a heartbeat. He grabbed Hanamaki’s right hand in his own, and used his left hand to tap lightly on the side of Hanamaki’s wrist. He tapped more than once. Hanamaki couldn’t figure out what that meant. 

Slowly, he turned towards Matsukawa. He wasn’t prepared for the amount of worry and dread that pooled in his friend’s dark eyes. He turned his head away once more, though, incapable of believing that he’d worried someone so much.

“What happened?” Matsukawa whispered softly. His tapping had not ceased yet, but was now in time to the bass of one of he and Hanamaki’s favorite songs. He was gentle, soothing, and Hanamaki almost started to cry. He hadn’t realized having someone else there with him would make him feel that much better. He desperately wanted to tell Matsukawa about his nightmares, and how much better he felt now that Matsukawa was by his side once more.

“Nothing,” he had replied instead. They both knew that Hanamaki was lying straight through his teeth. Usually, Matsukawa wouldn’t press the issue, but instead just soothe his friend in whatever way Hanamaki needed him too. 

“Bullshit, Makki. Cut the crap. What’s wrong? What happened?” Matsukawa tried again. He brought the hand that was tapping on Hanamaki’s wrist up to the strawberry blonde’s face, tilting it so that he was forced to look Matsukawa in the eyes once more.

“I-I’m sorry, please, Mattsun, it’s really no big deal.” Hanamaki was scared that Matsukawa would be angry for not cooperating, but it was a natural instinct to shy away from telling other people about the images that plagued him.

“Takahiro, just tell me what it is, I won’t tell anyone or judge you for it, just please. Why am I not allowed to know what’s been bothering my friend for the past few weeks?” Matsukawa pleaded. Hanamaki was stunned into silence. Weeks? It’s true that they had had sleepovers in that time frame, and this training camp surely had to count for some of it, he just didn’t know Matsukawa knew he’d been waking up in the night time. 

“You’re not as closed a book as you think you are, ‘Hiro. I know you’ve been waking up randomly - er, well, maybe not  _ randomly,  _ but waking up suddenly - in the night. Just,  _ why _ though? What’s going on?” Matsukawa read the dumbfoundedness on his friend’s pale face that was illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. Hanamaki looked at Matsukawa’s own face, noting that usually tan skin has been paled - by either the moonlight or worry, he wasn’t sure. 

“It’s a long story…” Hanamaki whispered softly, eyes glancing to where Matsukawa still held onto Makki’s hand tightly. The hand on his face had long since gone back to the tapping, and Hanamaki was glad for the poor lighting, for he was sure he felt himself blush.

“We’ve got time.” Replied Matsukawa softly. Hearing Matsukawa say “we” instead of “I,” letting Hanamaki know he wasn’t in this alone anymore, made Hanamaki feel all the more safe, and his walls came tumbling down.

He started his explanation by telling Matsukawa when he first heard of wars on the news when he was five. He launched into his nightmares, telling him some of the gruesome details that were included in his dreams. He explained what they were about, and how only he and his sister knew about them up until this point, and how they just got worse as he got older and his sister moved away, and making and losing friends so frequently hadn’t helped much either. He told Matsukawa about how the nightmares got even worse when he met Matsukawa (also quickly hushing the attempt at a shaky apology Matsukawa was making). He told him all about those nightmares, and also told him that he usually thinks about the nightmares even when he’s awake, but he never did with Matsukawa there. 

“You help me through it without ever realizing you do,” Hanamaki said quietly, brushing his thumb lightly over Matsukawa’s hand (they hadn’t yet let go). He explained how some nights were better than others, and tonight was a bad one, but he felt safer now that Matsukawa was beside him again. 

He knew his words were shaky and stuttered, because his breathing was fast and ragged. He hadn’t realized, however, that he was crying, until he heard the hiccuping sob that came after his last spoken word. 

“Ssh, Makki, I’ve got you now.” Matsukawa said, reaching up to wipe tears from Hanamaki’s eyes. He pulled the shorter boy to his chest and hummed to him as he swayed their bodies back and forth, slow and gentle. Hanamaki kept his form limp as to comply with the way Matsukawa moved, keeping his arms down by his sides. Matsukawa had only seen Hanamaki cry once before this, and he’d done the same thing back then, too. It seemed to have a calming effect on the strawberry blonde. 

Hanamaki nodded against the brunette’s strong, sturdy chest. He mumbled so incoherent words, but decided to just close his eyes and listen to his friend’s soft humming as he felt the vibrations against his cheek. 

When Hanamaki calmed down enough, he pulled away slightly to look at Matsukawa. 

“Thank you. For, um, for not running away, or freaking out, or something. I’m sorry,” Hanamaki expressed his gratitude to his friend while apologizing to him at the same time. 

Matsukawa laughed, though, and pulled Hanamaki back in for another hug. “Don’t apologize, dumbass. It’s my job to be here for you, y’know?” He rested his cheek against soft, pink-tinted locks, and Hanamaki wasn’t sure if he felt a light kiss pressed to the top of his head or if he imagined it.

“Yeah, I know.” This time, Hanamaki returned the hug.

“Let’s get back.” Matsukawa whispered into his friend’s hair, pulling away from him but grabbing his hand. Hanamaki let Matsukawa lead them back to the room where the rest of their team was still fast asleep. Hanamaki laid down on his mat and squeezed Matsukawa’s hand. Just as Matsukawa was about to leave, though, the elder boy tugged him down to lay beside him.

“Stay,” Hanamaki’s question was said as more of a statement. Matsukawa nodded, however, and wrapped strong, dark arms around Hanamaki and pulled him closer.

Hanamaki felt another feather-light kiss, this time on his forehead, and decided that no, he did not imagine the kiss from earlier. He felt himself smile, and he nuzzled closer to Matsukawa, resting his head on the taller boy’s chest. He quickly fell asleep to the steady sound and feel of Matsukawa’s breathing. He could say that it was, without a doubt, the best sleep he’d ever gotten in his seventeen years of life.

He hadn’t had a single nightmare, either.


End file.
